Chopsticks
by Hobes
Summary: No one had taught Naruto how to use chopsticks


Contention:  I've always wanted to find a way to explain why Naruto loves Sakura, beyond typical hormonal reasons.  I would love to know that it goes a lot deeper than "Sakura-chan is cute!"  By writing this story I hope to examine in a simple way, a common human need, and the way a stranger can very powerfully influence your day.

Disclaimer:  Not mine, you know it.

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No one had taught Naruto how to use chopsticks.  In the boys' home he lived in, despite all he did to be noticed, everyone did equally as much to ignore his presence.  Even when it came to meal time, no one would call Naruto down to eat; either by ignorance or on purpose; so he would come in when the food was cold, often when there was next to nothing left.  Instead of using chopsticks, or any kind of cutlery he would use his hands (as no one had taught him otherwise) to scoff down the barely edible food.  He was five, and things like dirty fingernails were of no concern to him.

Naruto sat at the little ramen shop he would come to frequent.  He puzzled over his bowl of noodles and broth.  He had never had ramen before, but he had seen people order it, and he liked the way it smelt.  Each week the boys at the home received a small amount of money and for the past couple of weeks, young Naruto had carefully counted and recounted his money (as best he could, since he was young anyway, and maths was not his strong suit) to ensure he had enough to try this new taste.  Now all that was left was to determine the best way to consume it.

You could not the drink broth with your hands, Naruto supposed, so he lifted the bowl to his lips and slurped at the soup hungrily, but paused when no one else did the same.  Along the bench at the outdoor vendor were three other people, next to Naruto, an older woman; beside her sat a little girl his age, with pink hair and green eyes, and a farthest away was a chuunin with a scar across his nose.  Naruto watched as these other people picked up a rounded object, dipped it into the broth and putting their lips to it.  

This method appeared successful, so Naruto followed in suit.

In a few minutes the bowl was left with near dry noodles, some vegetables, meat and other ingredients also sitting stagnant, having lost most of their moisture.

Naruto looked at a pair of sticks on the table in front of him.  "What do I do with these?"  He wondered to himself.  The little girl giggled suddenly.  She seemed to be poking at her food with a similar pair of sticks held _somehow_ in her hand.  What she was doing, as Naruto didn't understand, was chasing around a piece of meat which no matter HOW hard she tried she could not keep on her chopsticks.  After a moment she noticed the other boy watching.  She smiled at him shyly, before looking back at her bowl with an "Aha!" expression on her face.  The wooden implements dived into the bowl and she was rewarded when she lifted them out, with the piece of meat dangling slightly precariously off them.  She looked at Naruto and gave him a little smile.

By this time, Naruto understood what she was doing.  He tentatively picked up his own chopsticks, and tried to pick up some noodles, but to no avail.  The pink haired girl lifted her own chopsticks again, pointed them outward, showing him her hand so he could see how she held them.  A trickle of sweat dropped at the side of Naruto's head as he realised he had been holding them in his fist, instead of the precise way _she _had been, the thin pieces of wood almost tangled amidst her fingers.

When Naruto had copied her grip, she clicked the ends of the chopsticks together a couple of times to show him the movement used to pick up the food.  After exactly four tries, Naruto succeeded in a clumsy imitation, and with great concentration poised himself to lift out some noodles.  The girl watched with baited breath.

"Sakura!" said the older woman suddenly.  She looked at Naruto with that all too familiar cold expression on her face.  "Finish your food and stop playing around.  We have to go."  The lady turned so her back was blocking the children's view from each other.  She whispered none too softly:  "He's not a good boy.  I don't want you talking to him."

Sakura was just about finished anyway, and mumbled, "I'm not hungry," prompting her mother to pay quickly and prepare to leave.  Sakura waved solemnly as she was led away, her hand clutched tightly in her mother's.  When she got home, she would probably forget the little boy who didn't know how to use chopsticks, as she played with, and met, new friends.

To Naruto on the other hand, a face with distinct features was burned on his mind – a face that did not show judgement, anger or simply indifference.   He sat at the ramen shop with determination.  He poised his chopsticks and prepared to finish his meal.

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There you go, the first fic I've ever published.


End file.
